There is a harsh reality to living in New York City. In a city this big, it is hard not to get lost in the never-ending hustle and bustle, not succumb to consuming the loneliness the concrete jungle force feeds you. You are beyond miniscule: you can not escape the fact that you are only one person of the 8.4 million in this city, the 316.1 million in this country, the 7.125 billion in this world. One person. How can ONE person of the 7.125 billion make a difference, make a change?

In Martin Scorsese’s film, Taxi Driver, Travis Bickle copes with his loneliness and insomnia. Like many war veterans, he is stricken with mental illness. Travis desperately just wants to make a connection with somebody and maybe even make a change in the world. Travis gets lost within the negative aspects if the city: prostitution, street crime and politics. In such a seemingly horrible place, how can one hope to make a connection with somebody decent? This led to a sequence of scenes where Travis acts on his need to purge the city of its negativity.

This film puts murder into a different light. In Travis’ case, he was not only killing partially to satisfy his own bloodlust, but also to make a positive change in the world. The way the media portrayed Travis’ acts, he was considered a hero and not a murderer, despite the numerous aspects of the act that were criminal. So following that example, is someone a hero for removing an unnecessary evil from the world? If I were to go burn down all the cigarette manufacturing factories in the world, killing thousands in the process, with the justification of “this will make people healthier,” am I a hero or a murderer? The Line between hero and murderer is blurred and fragile.